


The Recombinant

by Falcon89



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcon89/pseuds/Falcon89
Summary: This story follows the first Jurassic World and has nothing to do with Fallen Kingdom.Be careful in thinking that you know something for certain.Your thinking can be completely wrong and you might just find your life turned upside down as a result. Claire learns this lesson in the worst possible way. Long held beliefs and trust are destroyed and she's reeling just to stay on her feet. The situation takes a dire turn when Claire realizes that she has to prove the new truths to the world, or it will cost not only her life, but the lives of everyone she loves.
Relationships: Claire Dearing/Owen Grady
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Red Raptor

**A/N: I started this story in 2018 and with the arrival of the pandemic I decided to return to fic is takes place after the first Jurassic World and has nothing to do with Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom. I hope you enjoy it all the same.**

**The fic is complete and I will upload a new chapter ever few days.**

**Thank you for giving this story a shot.**

* * *

Cold licked the length of Claire’s spine as she stepped outside of her apartment building and onto the rain sodden sidewalk. She shuddered violently at the sensation and immediately fought to look unbothered to the watching world.

It was an unusually cold June morning, even by coastal northern Washington’s standards. It wasn’t the cold however, that elicited the response. She was genuinely terrified.

The phone call with Selina, an old family friend had left her with a deep-seated feeling of dread that, no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t shake away. Selina had said she was in town and that she had wanted to meet up for breakfast. That had all been well and good before she realized that very few people knew that she had moved to Anacortes, Washington. In fact, there was only one person who knew where she had escaped to, and that person was Lowery. Hell, the only reason he had been privy to the information, was because she had dragged him into the Valley of Death with her. But he hadn’t needed much coaxing. At the time they had shared a common goal. But things had gotten scary as of late.

She and Lowery had gone to lengths to cover their tracks. They had acquired new identities and changed their appearances as best as they could. For the purpose of their operation, they weren’t even living in the same city, but close enough to each other to come to the rescue when needed.

With the help of colored contacts, glasses, and an extremely expensive wig, she had gone from a blue eyed, auburn, powerhouse to a blond haired, brown-eyed, horn rimmed glasses wearing, benevolent librarian with the Anacortes Public Library. To those who knew her here, she was Sarah Carson, a shy woman, born and raised in the Idaho backcountry. If anyone saw through her disguise they didn’t’ let on. Although, she had no reason to suspect that anyone knew who she really was.

So how was it that Selina knew?

God, how stupid had she been to think that this could ever work? But being her stubborn self, she just had to try, not because she was a glutton for punishment but because she just didn’t know when to quit. She couldn’t just let rabid dogs lie. Now that conviction was about to get her killed. Or worse. Much worse.

Owen had been right.

Claire’s stomach did a sick twist. _Owen._ She wished that he were here now with her. He’d know what to do in this highly volatile situation. But he wasn’t here. Just her. By her own choice. She hadn’t even given him one. She had just left in the night like a sad country song.

So, it was up to her to rectify this situation. Selina had sounded so strained on the phone. Claire could only imagine that someone had a gun pressed to the poor woman’s skull. That’s the only reason she agreed to come. She fully intended to save Selina if she wasn’t already dead. She certainly planned on meeting any attackers head on.

She reached inside her anorak for just a moment and stroked the butt of the .45 in her shoulder rig. It wasn’t the only gun she carried but it was her favorite of the two that she had brought with her. Owen had given it to her six months prior on her birthday, exactly three weeks before she had left him. She squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment before opening them again.

Thinking of the fate much worse than death, she also palmed her pocket and felt for the bump made by the capsule. The pill was her contingency plan. When she had killed as many of those fuckers as she could and the bullets ran out, she didn’t intend to be taken alive. Four seconds tops of pure agony would be better than whatever _they_ could and would do to her when they had her in their custody.

She was three blocks from the rendezvous point. She had chosen Café Wolf for its popularity and its proximity to the Anacortes Police Department. The police could literally run over in less than a minute if they were summoned. The only reason she had not called was because if this went the way her paranoia was imagining, her survival would cost them the war.

A light rain began to fall. She transected the entrance to the first of three alleys between her and the cafe. She kept watch but not overly so. She had mastered the art of being alert without appearing guarded a long time ago. She knew how to make herself look like easy prey. And when the predator she wanted to attract came stupidly forward she would spring and reveal her dangerous, hunter markings. She reveled in the shocked, and frightened looks on the faces of those weak-minded fools, but she didn’t do it often. She wasn’t a vigilante. Sometimes she was just bored.

Out of the corner of her eye she took notice of a homeless man trying to ward off the cold with nothing more than a tattered jacket, and discarded cardboard. Her heart broke for the man. She wished she could help him, but at the moment she couldn’t stop to even buy him a hot drink to warm his hands. Instead she reached into her anorak pocket for her wallet. These days purses were large and cumbersome, they added weight, but they also provided an attacker with something to grab onto. So, she no longer carried a purse. Sure, there was a time when it would make a good weapon, but she trusted her own body to get her through a fight, now.

She handed the homeless man a one-hundred note and smiled at the man’s shock.

“I can’t accept this, ma’am.”

“Yes, you can.” She said firmly. “I don’t care what you spend it on, but some of that has to go to keeping yourself warm. Rumor has it we’re in for a windstorm unlike any other tonight.” She said cheerfully to counteract the man’s shame.

She turned on her heel and rushed off quickly before the man could stutter out another word. She did hear him shout thank you and she threw a wave over her shoulder. She hadn’t done enough good deeds lately. Maybe if she died today this would be enough to win her a bed in a better place.

She very seriously doubted that.

By the time she reached Café Wolf she was tightly wound though she kept a serene façade. Nothing had happened. The people who wanted her dead hadn’t attacked. But no one was stupid or desperate enough to attack at Café Wolf. The place was nirvana for anyone who loved breakfast. Even at six-thirty in the morning the place would be busy.

She wondered if maybe she should have considered that these people would be desperate enough to nab her in a crowded locale. In hindsight, she should have considered it an absolute certainty. These people were absolutely nuts, and they had only gotten worse after the Jurassic World incident.

Those people were InGen.

Not Hammond’s InGen of course, but the InGen it had become after Hammond’s passing. Her paranoia wasn’t unfounded. She and Lowery had done quite a bit to attempt to break InGen’s back, especially lately.

What the hell had made them think that they would succeed?

Jurassic Park hadn’t done it, neither had the subsequent incidents with Site B. Jurassic World hadn’t even come close, because the folks at InGen had masterfully positioned themselves in a way that they could still have power but the fault wasn’t theirs if something happened. Masrani Corp had taken the majority of the blame, as had Claire’s management of the situation—which, was deserved, even she had to admit that she had been a huge part of why things had gone so horribly wrong that day.

But InGen still needed to pay for their crimes even if the law had decided that they wouldn’t issue a price. The law wasn’t the only one to blame, however, the media, too, had failed. InGen had been hailed as heroes for their quick action in the wake of the ACU’s failure.

Anger momentarily replaced paranoia. Claire stepped heavily into a puddle, sloshing up a tidal wave of water. Her pants were washed in the cool, fresh rainwater, but she felt none of the chill. Thank God for waterproof pants. Claire stomped one more time, this time with more force. It was childish, but also very cathartic.

Her mood lifted slightly but not by much. She was no longer afraid, however, and that went a long way. She was ready to face what was coming even if it came in the form of InGen’s strongest soldiers. Actually, she welcomed such a confrontation. She had her guns, and her mind. She knew what she was fighting for and she knew that made her dangerous. She would do a lot of damage today before she took the cyanide capsule. Lowery’s conspiracy nut friends would finish her work with the leaked footage from the cameras. She had seen their work. With the footage they received today they would end the war decisively for her.

She sucked in a deep breath and put the café entrance into her line of sight.

Owen, not Selina was waiting for her outside Café Wolf.

Shaken more deeply than what the phone call had done, Claire froze in the walkway and stared with her mouth agape.

He stood in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest like a bouncer in a nightclub. The rain had gone from a gentle sprinkle to a heavy torrent. His chocolate brown hair was plastered to his forehead, but he seemed unbothered by it as he stared her down with an incensed look that darkened his green eyes to black. “Where’s Lowery? I’d like to kick his lying ass,” he projected his voice to be heard through the rain and down the path. Claire flinched at the sound. He was angry at _Lowery._ The thought didn’t immediately make sense, and then a second later she realized how Owen might have come up with that.

Indignancy replaced shock rather quickly, “It’s not his fault,” Claire protested as she stormed up the pathway. In the back of her mind she couldn’t help but think that this sort of scene had been played out between them many times. Owen makes an uninformed remark and she immediately storms to defend, usually herself.

Owen stepped out of the doorway to meet her the rest of the way. He leaned down to be eye level with her. Not long ago the action might have caused Claire to take a step backward, to feel the heat in her cheeks, and to maybe suffer a bit of racing heartbeat; but not today. Today she was a soldier, unmoved by any emotion—at least that’s what she told herself.

“Lowery got you mixed up in this shit. What do you mean it’s not his fault, Claire?” Owen said. “He’s got you on InGen’s hitlist.”

“I got myself on InGen’s hitlist.” Claire argued squaring her shoulders and narrowing her eyes at him. “ _I’m_ Red Raptor.”

“Red Raptor?”

Owen cracked a smirk and Claire instantly felt her soldier façade fall away as her cheeks burned. Who was she kidding? She could never be a soldier; not around him. But now things were much worse. He hadn’t known about her alter ego and now she was going to have to explain.

“R-4-d-R-4-p-t-0-r,” she clarified keeping her eyes unwavering on his in order to save face. It’s the name I write under.” She didn’t dare say that the name had been Lowery’s brainchild. She didn’t want to solidify Owen’s belief that it was Lowery who had dragged her into this fight and not the other way around.

“Ah, right, the half-rate investigative blog against InGen.”

Owen was clearly angry, and in some ways hurt. She tried not to take his words personally.

Tried and failed.

“Excuse me. Do you know how much work I put into that? How many hours of—”

“I’m not here to talk about your fucking blog, Claire!” Owen roared. “That’s not why InGen has a bounty on your head. They don’t even take your blog seriously. You can’t hurt them with that.”

Claire stared at him. Confusion (and if she was being honest with herself) hurt pride, softened her posture.

Owen’s glare slowly began to soften. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Claire shook her head numbly. She shivered and realized suddenly that her hood had slipped off her head and she was being soaked by the frigid rainfall.

“Holy shit,” Owen mumbled under his breath. His voice still trembled with the slightest bit of anger but it was mostly gone, only to be replaced by shock and what could possibly be fear. “Holy shit,” Claire stayed quiet and watched him process as he leaned back against the wall and rubbed his face. 

Finally, Owen looked at her again. There was something knew in his expression, sympathy? Guilt? She couldn’t place it, but she didn’t like it either way.

“Okay look, we definitely need to talk about your escapades and InGen later. But, right now, your friend Selina is in there. She’s about to drop you down a pretty deep rabbit hole.”

Owen pulled open the door and held it open for her. 

“Wait. What?” Claire asked puzzled and quite frankly annoyed. “You just show up here and yell at me for God knows what reason and you just expect me to go in there with you like this didn’t just happen?”

Owen cracked a grin that actually chased away the darkness in his eyes. For just a second, she could marvel at the beautiful shade of green his eyes take on when he’s being an ass. “I can wait out here,” He assured her. But suddenly his eyes darkened again. “But for your sake, I think it’s best that I go in there with you. There’s a good chance I’ll be able to limit the damage that way.”

Claire didn’t like that response, but she had a feeling that it didn’t really matter. This was all the explanation she was going to get until she spoke to Selina and apparently, she was going to like that even less. All out of options, Claire acquiesced begrudgingly. 

Owen held out a hand to stop Claire as she pushed by him. She looked up at him sharply, wondering what it was that he wanted now.

“I’m going to need both of your guns and the knife you keep sheathed on your ankle.”

Claire opened her mouth to argue.

“Trust me.”

It was not the words that compelled her to comply. It was the subtle way his expression wavered when he told her to trust him. For a moment, just a moment he had been beseeching her to trust him as if that were an issue. He had to know it wasn’t, right? Claire trusted him with her life. He knew that. He should. But she remembered with a cold punch to the gut, that he had no reason to be sure of her trust anymore. She had left him without rhyme or reason. A move she had considered the best scenario for everyone—at the time.

He stuffed the guns in a duffle bag that Claire had earlier failed to see at his feet. The bag was bulging, ready to explode. She wondered about it but didn’t ask because she knew she wouldn’t get an answer.

When he met her eyes again, they were expectant. Claire remembered the knife and bent down to retrieve it. For good measure she also gave him the folded tactical knife she kept clipped to her belt. As she passed the knife to him, she had the sudden urge to grab his wrist, and she acted on it without thinking it through. They locked eyes at once, and Claire was once again tortured by the hurt in his eyes. In that moment all she wanted to do was apologize, and to explain her stupid plan which at the time had made all the sense in the world to her. But she couldn’t. She dove down deep for the right words only to resurface empty handed. The truth was unmaskable. She couldn’t apologize because what she had done to him was unforgivable.

Owen yanked his wrist from her grasp. The message was clear, but long realized. Her chest tightened and her throat went dry. She fought hard to contain herself. The damage was irreparable. She knew that and now she had to set about working to accept it.

“She’s waiting for you.” Owen said, his voice was flat, and he looked over his shoulder into the café. Claire got the feeling that he was doing his best not to look at her.

All she could do was nod and proceed inside to whatever was waiting for her.


	2. The Meeting

Café Wolf is the breakfast standard of not just the city of Anacortes, but of the entire state of Washington, quite possibly the entire west coast. No one does breakfast the way that Erma and Clyde do it. Every bite is truly a supernatural experience! It's a promise proudly displayed on the sign above the door. The words bold and prominent below a grey wolf howling at a yellow full moon. It's a promise that has been kept for twenty-five years. So much so that this place, this small piece of heaven, that only serves breakfast from 5:00 am to 9 pm is always crowded. This place has the distinction of serving normal everyday people, celebrities, politicians, and foreign tourists from around the globe. No one gets special treatment, but here everyone feels special.

Today however, the café stood deserted. The moment Claire stepped inside, she could make out the familiar scents of hickory, maple, and brown sugar. These mouthwatering scents permeated through the warm air, long after the cooking was done. She was sure that this smell would never fade even after years of desertion. But that was the only thing of any comfort.

All of the lights were turned off. The only source of light came from the muted glow of the stormy outside world through the large front windows. For the first time the café looked gloomy in gray tones, and she had the most unnerving compulsion to run. It didn't help that chairs were pushed back in all directions, and that cameras, purses, wallets, cellphones and all sorts of other personal effects were abandoned on the tables along with half eaten meals, meals barely touched and drinks in equal condition. This place had been abandoned and quickly.

Again, she battled with the idea of running. But then she remembered that Owen was here. He'd never do anything to harm her even under duress. But what if he really wasn't here? What if this was all the doings of an altered state? What if between her apartment and here she had been drugged somehow? Sometimes people could inject things without causing any pain. Depending on how fast the drugs worked or what the nature of the drug was she wouldn't even know what hit her. Even if she had in that moment the memory could be easily erased. She'd seen it before.

Another chill. This time she couldn't fight the resultant shudder. She paused and looked over her shoulder. Owen moved silently behind her in a way only soldiers could. But he had been a special type. A SEAL, he had told her once when they were lounging in bed one lazy, Summer afternoon. She swallowed that memory quickly before it could do any damage.

Owen nodded to her and Claire continued forward. A dark shadow moved in the corner. Startled, Claire immediately reached for the gun that she realized a second too slowly was no longer in her shoulder rig. She did the only thing she could do and stared defiantly at the shadow.

"Claire, I don't ever recall you being so jumpy." The shadow said with a strangely reedy and yet familiar voice. Selina's voice had always been warm, charming, confident. She never imagined that she could ever sound so…weak. It troubled her.

Claire walked forward slowly, wishing very much that she hadn't given up her guns and her knife. But while she didn't trust the situation at hand, she knew that if things were going to go in that direction, she would have already been dead. She glanced up at the corner above Selina's silhouette. A camera was recording the exchange, a bright red light flashed steadily, and she was instantly comforted by the fact that, should she die, the footage would be leaked immediately.

"Good morning, Selina." Claire greeted as evenly as she could. Though fear was flooding out of her in droves, she did her best not to show it for the sake of the footage and as well as for Selina, although she wasn't quite sure why. But her muscles were tense, prepared for either a fight or flight and her mind was already working on the escape plan. It had to be obvious that she was scared.

Selina chuckled softly, the action was clearly meant to be warm, but it only served to unsettle Claire further. "Morning, child." That shaky voice, the way she spoke to her, it made Claire think of her childhood when Selina would use that same voice to bring evil witches and queens to life in the stories she told. But Selina wasn't faking it now. Something was very wrong.

"Why are you hiding in the shadows?" Claire asked because she was sick and tired of beating around the bush. If the plan was to kill her, they needed to get on with it. 'Claire Dearing, always in a rush to die.' Though she wasn't wearing an ear wig now, she could hear Lowery's voice clear as day in her head, because she'd heard the same words many times.

Owen snorted and not so subtly buried it underneath a cough that couldn't have fooled the most gullible. Claire didn't look behind her, but instead kept careful tabs of where his position was. If in fact this was Owen, and she was sure that it was, she was safe. But if it wasn't, she was in deep shit and her escape wasn't guaranteed. She wouldn't be able to kill him. History wasn't an issue. She was sure if it came down to it, she could kill him because she knew that when he woke up, if he were drugged, that would be the fate worse than death. Owen had taken every death at Jurassic World personally, and she liked to think that she had grown to mean a little more to him. But that was also selfish thought.

No. As a fighter, she would never be able to kill Owen. Strength wasn't everything in a fight, but she still wasn't experienced or fast enough to take him out. If he had been drugged into becoming a mindless drone for InGen, he would still have his physical abilities.

He was just to the right of her, right in her peripheral vision, but not just so. She suspected that he was doing that intentionally to help put her at ease. She was grateful for it, so long as it wasn't an act to get her off her guard.

Selina shifted in her chair and leaned forward. In her hand she held a box of matches.

"Sorry," Owen said from his position. Because Owen hadn't moved, Claire kept her eyes on Selina and watched as she wiggled a match from the box, studied it for a moment like it was the most fascinating thing in the room, and then struck its head on the strip that ran the length of the box. "We don't know who else is in town so we're trying to be discreet."

Selina lit a wrought iron lamp that adorned the center of the table. A sneer slid across her face. "You wanted to be discreet, and yet you dumped nearly the entirety of my checking account on main street."

"The keyword there, Selina, is nearly," Owen shot back in a dangerous whisper that almost convinced Claire to turn around.

"Should I call you Claire or Sarah?"

Jokes. The woman was on the verge of giving her a heart attack and it was jokes that she decided to come at her with. But there had been no trace of humor in the woman's tone. She had been mocking her, yes, but for her own enjoyment. "You can call me whatever the hell you want as long as it means we can get on with why you guys are here." Claire sat down then. She knew it wasn't smart, but it was a defiant action. They expected her to be scared, and taking a seat would suggest otherwise. At least, that's what she told herself. In reality she was suddenly not feeling very well. The thought of drugs popped into her mind again. She brushed it aside. If she had been drugged it was too late to think about it now.

The corner of Selina's mouth twitched. In the glow of the firelight, her eyes looked almost predatory, defiant, like an animal backed into a corner. This was not the Selina Maclan that she had known. This couldn't possibly be the same Selina that had worked so hard at school while working full time as a nanny. This wasn't the Selina that had been top of her class at Harvard Law only to go on to be known as one of the most compassionate lawyers. She had helped thousands of people in her tenure. She was about to retire and go on to volunteer with humanitarian causes around the globe. "Touchy." No. This wasn't her Selina.

"Who are you?" Claire demanded slamming her fist hard against the resin coated, redwood table.

Selina or the woman claiming to be Selina was unmoved by the threat in Claire's voice. "Selina Maclan." She said briskly. "What? Just because I'm not kissing your feet suddenly, I'm not Selina your humble servant. News flash sweetheart I never was. I was your nanny for a time, and then the one who suffered through every one of your complaints, as if you had it worse than everyone else. You rich folks always complain at the littlest things. Get over it, sweetheart."

The words cut deep. Despite herself, despite everything she had been through, and all the mental and emotional training she had subjected herself to, her eyes began to blur. Selina had been her nanny, her idol, and her confidant.

"Watch it, Selina." Owen hissed from behind them. "You're skating on thin ice as it is."

"stupid ape," Claire distinctly heard Selina mutter underneath her breath.

Evidently Owen had heard it too because he stepped out from behind Claire. She tensed despite immediately realizing that Owen's target was Selina.

She watched carefully as he strode over to the woman seated at the table. He was casual in his stride, but Claire could detect the danger.

He bent down slightly so his face was in Selina's. He kept his hand tightly on the back of her chair as if he were about to rip it out from underneath her. Earlier Claire had thought that the look Selina was giving her had been predatory, dangerous, but no. The look that Owen was giving Selina now was far worse. It was clear that while Selina had the answers, Owen was the one in control of the situation and Selina sure as hell feared him.

Owen said something to Selina in hushed tones. Claire couldn't make it out, but she watched as Selina grew ever paler in the firelight. Her eyes no longer held the look of a cat playing with a mouse. She was the mouse now, or more like the canary trapped in her cage. She looked exactly how Claire imagined when they had been on the phone. It dawned on her then, that maybe Owen had been the one holding the gun to her head. But why?

"Okay." Selina snapped defensively. Owen walked away to stand behind Claire again; or so she thought. Instead he pulled up a chair from a neighboring table and took a seat beside her. He was so close that had she not kept her arms firmly at her sides, their arms would have brushed. She missed the feeling of the warmth of his body against hers. She'd give anything to have that back. But she had given that up to chase a fight that she wasn't even sure she could win.

But he seemed to be protecting her from something now. She took relief in the fact that he still cared enough to do just that.

"Whenever you're ready, Selina." Owen said in a tone that suggested that what he really meant was that she'd better get talking. She caught him checking his watch. She wondered for a moment if he had to be somewhere or if he was expecting someone. She decided it didn't matter. The way he was looking at Selina right now told Claire that whatever was coming out of her mouth was far worse than anything that was going to come through the door.

Selina gave a long-suffering sigh. "Navy men…everything has to be on their time."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. She got the feeling that he didn't find Selina's words the least bit humorous. "Selina." He said forcefully.

"Alright." Selina chewed on her lower lip. A nervous habit that she'd always had. "Look, here it is plain and simple. The twins weren't stillborn."

Owen stiffened beside Claire at once "Bitch!"

The words sank in slowly, but they sank in and suddenly Claire found herself in the worst kind of shellshock. She just stared and watched as the annoyance on Selina's face became a gratified sneer. One that Claire would love to wipe off her face and quickly. But she still didn't quite understand. The words had sunk in, but they didn't add up to anything meaningful. Well, nothing she wanted to believe anyway.

"What the hell are you talking about, Selina?" Claire started to get to her feet. Owen's hand shot to her arm and before she could think she was planted right back into her chair. She didn't look at Owen but felt his eyes burning into her, willing her to stay put.

Selina chuckled. "I'm sorry, dear. That was inconsiderate of me to just blurt out news like that." The woman wasn't sorry in the slightest.

We planned out how I was going to tell you. There was even a script that I had to memorize. But why am I going to sugar coat it. Meredith Cordelia and Milo Christopher weren't dead when they came out of you. Under your mother's orders I took them, and she lied about them being stillborn. It was so easy! You didn't even ask to see the bodies." Selina laughed at this, as if it were some sort of a lighthearted joke. As if she hadn't ruined lives.

"She had to bribe a few doctors of course, buy a new wing. I mean keeping those little bastards would have been far cheaper than all the money she had to throw away to keep those babies from ruining your future."

Eyes firmly to her hands Claire fought the growing panic that was steadily pushing against her sides. She felt as if she might explode. She tried to understand. The words entered her ears, but her brain refused to process them. The twins had died. Her twins were born stillborn. It had been almost certain that they would. The ultrasound had shown abnormalities in heart and brain. She had never heard them cry. But she had never seen the bodies either. Selina was right she had never asked to see the bodies. But what if she had? Selina and her mother would have just lied some more. Cook up a story. They knew that she trusted them implicitly and they used that trust to ruin her life. The light pressure of Owen's hand on her arm suddenly fell away.

Red clouded her vision and her muscles tightened before she sprang out of her chair and over the table right towards the lying bitch. No obstacle would stop her, she flung the lantern to the floor the glass shattered on impact and she briefly heard Owen curse as he rushed to put out the fire.

She lost track of the small blaze that had caught on the napkins that had been strewn all over the floor. Instead she focused on the monster before her. Her hands closed around the woman's scrawny neck. She could feel the ridges of the woman's trachea. She was surprised at how easily the plastic like wall began to buckle under her hands.

Selina's eyes bulged out of her sockets; blood vessels webbed her sclera. Claire realized that she was killing her and part of her did feel some shock at the suddenness by which she had acted, but largely, she didn't care. Not in the slightest.

Ten years ago, and change, she had thought she had made the mistake of a lifetime. In a night of pure recklessness born of her fiancé's treachery, she had, had a one-night stand. That one-night stand had resulted in twins. She had been upset at first. She had actually considered an abortion but in the end, she had decided against it. She knew that she could still be successful and raise a family on her own. In fact, by all accounts she already was. She had been about to graduate top of her class at Harvard. Babies wouldn't change that course in her life, having them would only be another obstacle that she would have effortlessly navigated.

Her future took a somewhat darker outlook in the second trimester when the girl was diagnosed with hydrocephalus and the boy a heart defect. The doctor had insisted that their odds weren't good. But that they did have a chance. That chance was Claire's cause for hope. She had believed so fervently that her babies would survive that it had absolutely destroyed her when she had learned that they had died. That's why she hadn't asked to see bodies. She couldn't do it. As selfish as it was at the time, she knew that seeing her dead children would break her all the way and she still had a life to live. She had regretted that decision ever since. She had gone to the funeral, but it hadn't been the same.

She attributed the decision not to see her children, as the catalyst to her becoming cold and unfeeling to the world right up until the Jurassic World incident, when she had nearly lost her nephews. Her life could have been different. So different. Certainly, it would have been better than it was now.

"You lied to me!" Claire screamed in the bitch's face. She slammed Selina's head hard against the wood floor. If she had drawn blood it wasn't yet apparent. She did it again.

Firm hands gripped Claire's shoulders. Owen tried to pull her back. Claire rolled, letting go of Selina to take a swing at Owen. She connected with something, but in her blind fury she wasn't sure if she had hit face, abdomen, or groin.

Owen backed off just for a moment. His laughter was loud over the beating of her heart as he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her off. "Stop, Claire. We need her alive." He said firmly, no longer with any trace of humor.

"No!" She spat as she lunged against his arms. She barely threw him off balance and he slung her over his shoulder as easily as if she were as light as a ragdoll. Resenting this, she pounded hard against Owen's back. "Let me go, Owen!"

"Not a chance, red raptor."

She screamed in rage and beat harder against his back and head.

He dumped her onto a couch and held her thrashing body securely.

"Owen!"

"Nope."

Claire announced her frustration with another guttural scream and she once again put all her force into throwing off Owen's arms. But he had her pinned belly down by sitting on her back. There wasn't any way that she would escape this. Fury burned white hot through every vein, artery and capillary. She beat the couch with tightly closed fists and kept screaming until her oxygen was spent, and she could taste her tears running into her mouth. That monster, that fucking bitch had ruined three lives irreparably and she was going to get away with not but a minor beating. A slap on the wrist.

The toll of stress and anger on her body must have plunged her into unconsciousness because when she opened her eyes she was on her back staring at the exposed beams of the café's ceiling. Her head felt hazy, and there was a general heaviness throughout her body. For a moment she didn't remember, but just a moment and then she was quickly on her feet. The sudden movement caused her head to spin and she was forced back onto the couch in sitting position. She buried her face in her hands and her body heaved in a great involuntary sigh. Owen must have drugged her. That prick.

She could hear whispers somewhere in front of her, but she didn't dare look up lest she vomit what little was in her stomach. She could already feel the sting of bile rising in her throat.

She tried to focus on the whispers. It wasn't Selina and Owen. It was Owen and an unknown person. She sounded strained and maybe just a little angry. She was struggling to keep up her whisper. She couldn't quite hear what Owen was saying. But sometimes his whispers were sharp, authoritative, and sometimes they were consolatory.

Suddenly the whispers stopped. She felt their eyes on her, but she couldn't lift her head.

"Good." Owen said, his voice wavering with a mixture of concern and something more complicated because her drugged brain would not process it.

Owen's approaching footsteps sounded too loud in her ears. "Did you drug me?" She didn't look up. Her pounding head wouldn't allow it.

There was a slight creaking on the wood floor and suddenly Owen's voice was in her ear. "No," He whispered. She knew he wasn't lying. "Your body just couldn't handle the stress. I told her not to do that to you. I told her to go easy." He backed away slightly clearly trying to spare her from a worse headache as his voice grew louder with irritation.

Suddenly, something clicked. Claire raised her head slowly and found Owen's concerned face. She narrowed her eyes and suddenly it dawned on him too because he looked guilty as hell. "How long have you known, Owen?"

"Not long." Owen stared down at his feet, "a couple of months."

Claire started to rise to her feet. Owen's hands came down firmly on the tops of her legs. Claire's own hands fisted immediately as she decided whether or not a punch was worth the nausea that such a quick movement would stir up. "Two months, Owen?! And you couldn't have told me?"

After a beat, Owen leveled a hard look at her. The look stabbed right through her heart. She regretted the question at once. "And how exactly was I supposed to do that, Claire? You didn't exactly leave me a phone number."

Her hands fell limply at her sides. All the fight suddenly gone from her, replaced only with anguish. She looked past Owen to where she had left Selina sprawled out on the floor. She wasn't there. Just a girl cleaning up the mess.

She studied the girl curiously. She was small maybe no more than five feet, willowy. To the unpracticed eye she could easily be mistaken as frail. But as the girl cast her eyes on her, she could see that the girl was strong. Her whole demeanor spoke to that. Claire narrowed her eyes and examined her more thoroughly. She had jet black hair, cut into a messy pixie. She was pale and her cheeks were dusted in freckles. Her eyes.

Claire gasped and stood slowly. This time Owen let her. She heard him slowly rise to his feet behind her. As she stepped slowly toward the girl, Owen remained close. When she was less than two feet away, she reached out and cupped the child's face in both of her hands. The girl held Claire's gaze. The girl's mouth formed a tight line, and Claire could feel the child's jaw muscles working beneath her cheeks. She knew those eyes all too well because they were hers as were the lips and that nose.

No. This can't be…

But even as she thought it the words began to form. "A-are you Meredith?"

The girl's eyes grew glassy, "hi, Mom."

She dropped her hands to Meredith's arms and pulled her into a tight hug. "Oh my God!" She whispered into Meredith's black hair. "Oh my God." Claire could feel tears falling from her eyes into Meredith's hair. A warm spot was starting to soak through Claire's shirt from Meredith's own tears.

"I finally got to you." Meredith mumbled into Claire's chest.

Claire sobbed and sank to her knees dragging Meredith with her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Against her mother, Meredith shook her head. "I know, Mom. I know what they did to you…to us. I know that it isn't your fault. You're a victim of greedy people same as me."

Claire ran her hand through Meredith's short hair. She at once found a bump the size of a robin's egg on the side of her head, just behind her ear. "Did someone hurt you?"

Meredith laughed hoarsely and shook her head. "No. That's my shunt valve. It's right under my skin."

Claire clenched her jaw. Before she given birth, she had made sure to be thoroughly educated on the twins' conditions. Meredith's shunt would drain the fluid from which ever brain ventricle or ventricles was afflicted and either drain into her liver, heart, or abdomen. "Where does it drain?" Was all she could think to ask, and she felt stupid for doing so. She found the catheter just under the skin of Meredith's neck and traced it lightly.

Meredith didn't seem to be bothered by the question. In fact, she pulled away and grinned. "Into my abdomen. It's kind of cool actually. I feel like a Bionicle." Meredith stood, and held out her hands dramatically. "I'm part machine, no one can mess with me."

Claire laughed for just a second, suddenly feeling light and happy, and then just as soon as that happiness sprang up, it was squashed under the weight of a dark thought. Her heart sank as she realized that someone was missing. "Where is your brother?"

Meredith's grin disappeared. Her gaze dropped to the floor. "Milo died a few months ago…." She hesitated for a moment as if struggling with what to say next and for good reason. The next words out of Meredith's mouth rocked Claire so badly that she nearly lost consciousness again. "He died on the day of the Jurassic World incident…heart attack."

Claire wavered. the darkness took hold fully. She struggled between the need to vomit and scream. The decision was made. Her body heaved and she spit up something watery and green.. Her mouth burned so badly she might actually have screamed if Meredith's little frame hadn't suddenly slammed against hers.

"I'm so sorry." Claire croaked, her mouth still burning viciously from the bile. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Mom."

If she only knew. "Yes, it was."

"Mom, really. I have proof. It wasn't your fault. Jurassic World was a set up. I have proof." Meredith said more forcefully. She pulled away and lifted her mother's face so that they were eye to eye.

"What are you talking about?"

"We need to get back to your apartment and I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?" Claire asked dumbly. Her whole body felt heavy and her vision still tunneled on the verge of a blackout.

"Owen, get Mom some water quick!" Meredith shouted having caught sight of Claire's condition.

The sound of Owen's stomping boots as he ran for the kitchen did little to help her headache.

"Everything." Meredith whispered as she touched Claire's cheek. "From the moment Owen rescued me from El SalvadorS, and before that, to my arrival to the diner and finding you on the couch. By the way I paid a taxi to get Selina out of town. A friend of mine will put her somewhere safe…if you care at all."

Claire only stared at Meredith in response. Her hands were shaking, and the darkening tunnel was advancing.

"Owen, where's that water!" Meredith screamed.

Owen's response sounded as muddled as if he were underwater as did Meredith's voice right beside her ear even though she was yelling.

Claire heard Owen's approach, but it all came too late.


End file.
